“It is quite true, master; I am quite ready to help you still more.”
“You!” said Gryphus, “are you a medical man?”
“It was formerly my profession.”
“And so you would be able to set my arm?”
“Perfectly.”
“And what would you need to do it, let us hear?”
“Two splinters of wood, and some linen for a bandage.”
“Do you hear, Rosa?” said Gryphus, “the prisoner is going to set my arm, that’s a saving; come, assist me to get up, I feel as heavy as lead.”
Rosa lent the sufferer her shoulder; he put his unhurt arm round her neck, and making an effort, got on his legs, whilst Cornelius, to save him a walk, pushed a chair towards him.
Gryphus sat down; then, turning towards his daughter, he said,—
“Well, didn’t you hear, go and fetch what is wanted.” Rosa went down, and immediately after returned with two staves of a small barrel and a large roll of linen bandage.
Cornelius had made use of the intervening moments to take off the man’s coat, and to tuck up his shirt sleeve.
“Is this what you require, sir?” asked Rosa.
“Yes, miss,” answered Cornelius, looking at the things which she had brought, “yes, that’s right. Now push this table, whilst I support the arm of your father.”
Rosa pushed the table, Cornelius placed the broken arm on it, so as to make it flat, and with perfect skill set the bone, adjusted the splinters, and fastened the bandages.
At the last touch, the jailer fainted a second time.
